Dear Italy
by Sam King
Summary: Alfred gives Ludwig a deal to help him out right after WWII. Facing depression after being seperated from his brother, Ludwig writes to Felicino in a series of letters. But why isn't the Italian getting any of them? Not a letter fic. GerIta & Spamano
1. Chapter 1

Dear Italy

_Lieber Italien,_

_How is freedom? __How are you? Is Romano treating you alright? He's not giving you a hard time is he? They took Gilbert away yesterday, by they I mean Ivan and Natalia, she's an evil bitch I tell you. I can still see them dragging him off, bound by hand cuffs forced to join the Soviet Union. Francis protested their treatment of him the whole time. It's nice to see that someone still cares about Bruder. He feels so alone sometimes._

Ludwig sighed putting down the black ball point pen onto the metal desk. How pathetic he was, he hadn't even been imprisoned a week and he was already writing to Felicino. Though it had been many years since he had spoken to the Italian, since 1943 in fact, that was two years. The separation was starting to get to him, he was sure that Felicino wouldn't visit him in prison, no he wouldn't want the happy Italian man to visit him while he was like this. Guarded day and night, he was spit on by some of the guards. It was humiliating for the proud nation. "Oi, Nazi bastard," his current guard said with an American accent. Ludwig shook his head, he wasn't a Nazi, he had never been part of that party, as a rule countries tried to avoid taking political sides when it came to internal politics, though Ludwig had to say, he hadn't been fond of the idea of being communist. He never once wore the swastika on his arm, though Ludwig wasn't sure how many times he had said _Hail Hitler_, but then he wouldn't wanted to have faced the consequences of not saying it to the cowardous bastard. Hitler had been one hell of a boss and he hadn't cared at all what effects those camps had on Ludwig mentally or physically. He had visited one, Dachau, it was in Germany, and he had wanted to know what exactly was causing him all the pain. He still had nightmares of the place. The thing was he wasn't the only one who had suffered from those hells either, Felix, Rodriech, Elizaveth, Gilbert, Lars, Belle and Francis had all suffered from their people being killed there as well.

"_Was_?" Ludwig responded irritated with the man, he hated this guard. He was especially rude to Ludwig, and often rubbed it into the nation's face which side had won the war. As if everyone else wasn't doing that. And to make matters worse, the guard had somehow found out that Ludwig had a soft spot for his former ally, Italy, and made sure to make fun of the soldiers he had tried to train during the war.

"You have a visitor." The metal door to the cell the blond now called home swung open and a honey haired, bespectacled, blue eyed man with a hero complexion walked in. He looked more tiered then Ludwig had ever seen him look before, Alfred always seemed to have an infinite amount of energy and a smile that sometimes got irritating if you looked at it too long. But the American was devoid of that smile today, his brown uniform looked dirty and his aviator jacket had tinges of burn marks on it.

"Alfred," Ludwig said curtly nodding to the man whose blue eyes looked down at the cement floor below him. Ludwig frowned, something was definitely wrong, the blond was always talking. But why had he come to him, the loser of the war and not to Arthur or Francis who had won the war with him.

"I deserve to be locked in here too." Alfred whispered so quietly that Ludwig had to strain to hear him. "I wasn't a hero today." Ludwig wasn't sure he'd ever seen Alfred like this, maybe he had been after Kiku attacked him at Pearl Harbor, though Ludwig doubted it. He probably coughed up a lot of blood due to Pearl Harbor. Ludwig hadn't been pleased with Kiku's idea of attacking America; he had wanted to take on the energetic nation as a team after first defeating Europe and Asia. But none of that mattered now, as the nation stood in front of him looking as if someone had finally told America he was the villain and not a hero.

"What did you do?" Ludwig hadn't meant for his words to come out so harshly, but he was irritated with his lot in life at the moment and to see Alfred looking so depressed after watching the man invade his home, kill his people, imprisoned him, Ludwig just wasn't feeling so sympathetic to him.

"I dropped an atomic bomb on the Japanese of Hiroshima, the reports are estimating forty-five thousand dead and the numbers are going up by the thousands." Alfred sounded haunted as he voiced what was eating him up inside. "My boss wants to drop another one in a few days because Kiku hasn't surrendered yet. He was in so much pain and there was so much blood," Alfred shivered from the memory his arms wrapped around himself. "And I know where Mr. Truman is coming from with dropping these bombs, but I'm afraid of what the effect they'll have on the world will be. Especially with Ivan, he's so difficult to understand sometimes. I don't trust him. I don't like the fact that he didn't honor some of our decisions at our conferences. He wasn't supposed to keep control of Ukraine, the Baltics or Belarus." Alfred's voice became more hardened as he spoke about his comrade.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Ludwig asked not sure how to feel, he understood Alfred's guilt about Hiroshima but he couldn't sympathize with him, not when he had hurt his friend.

"Because, I know Kiku will surrender after the next bomb. Because I'm going to fix him and make him better. Because I want to help you too. I believe you deserve a second chance. Arthur disagrees of course, but he's still sore about London. I'll make you a deal, I'll help you get through the next couple of years with your economy and military and stuff if you agree to always allow me to have a military presence in your country and always to be my ally." Ludwig blinked at the American, this proposition Alfred was proposing was unheard of. In every other war the losers were left to their own devices and the winners gloated about their victories, Alfred was no different. Then you had situations after World War One, Ludwig didn't want to have suffer from that kind of humiliation again. And Alfred had yet to lose a war, not even against himself, being allies with him would definitely be an advantage for him and maybe he could be seen in a different light. Why should the decisions of one mad man affect his countries future?

"How long would I have to stay in here?" Ludwig asked not wanting Alfred to know how close he was to taking him up on his offer. He couldn't make decisions without his government, and right now Ludwig wasn't even sure if he even had a government.

"Er, that would be something Arthur and Francis would have to help decide on. Don't worry I'm sure they'll agree. Right now our people have been working to help your people create a new government and find all of those in charge who need to be put on trial." Alfred said a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "I could see if Felicino could come visit you."

"_Nein_!" Ludwig barked abruptly, Alfred looked a bit taken back. "I don't want _Italien_ to see me like this." The honey-blond nodded

"Francis couldn't stand for weeks, after we reoccupied him, to have Arthur look at him. He was ashamed of-" Alfred went silent, "Sorry that was thoughtless, Arthur says I have to work on that. But I was isolated for so long from other countries and I don't like to be alone. I mean Mathew was good company and all, but having only one friend isn't so much fun. I didn't mind being alone at first because I had so many new lands to discover and I killed so many natives. I feel so alone still because you guys have been around each other for thousands of-" Ludwig put a hand over his mouth to silence him like he often had to do with Felicino. Though, when Alfred went on long rants it wasn't as whiney as Felicino, but just as annoying.

"If you can convince Francis and Arthur to let me out of here, then I'll take you up on your offer." Ludwig said all but pushing Alfred out of his cell. He needed to think and it was obvious that the American wasn't going to let him do that. Alfred nodded making his way out of the cell. "Oh, and Alfred, I don't think you belong in a cell. You are a hero to a great deal many people and we all make tough choices that cost lives. Realizing that and moving on from that, that is how we grow as nations and as people." He saw the outline of a smile on Alfred's face as he walked out of the cell the door clanging shut behind him.

"Guard," Alfred said to the annoying brunette who had walked off so the two nations could speak in private.

"Yes sir." The guard responded, Ludwig shook his head, what a suck up.

"I don't think we'll be requiring your assistance with guarding Germany. I believe you can join your comrades upstairs in the mess hall." Alfred said, Ludwig wondered maliciously what the guard's face looked like as Alfred told him that he couldn't torture the country anymore.

"But… but Commander Kirkland said-" the man started before being cut off

"I'll speak to Commander Kirkland." Alfred said sharply and Ludwig heard the sounds of boots going up the steps near his cell. The same steps Ivan had dragged his brother up yesterday and only God knew when he would see him again, if ever. Ludwig turned back to the desk where his abandoned letter to Felicino and the black ballpoint pen he was writing it with lay, discarded. Sitting down on the metal seat, everything was metal and bolted to the floor in the cell, Ludwig picked up the pen to start writing to the Italian again.

_ Alfred just came in and told me the news about Hiroshima. He was really upset about what he did, he wanted to join me in one of these cells they have me in. He's really something you know. __He reminds me a lot of you and I miss you. But right now I'm in no shape to be seeing anybody really.__ He gave me a proposition that I think I'm going to take. It'll benefit us both in the long run. He also said something about making it as well with Kiku, so don't worry about us. We'll be okay. How's that new constitution coming? I hope Lovino isn't giving you any trouble. The next time I write I hope to be out of this cell, Alfred talking to Francis and Arthur about it._

_Ludwig _

Ludwig sighed and leaned back on his chair stretching, it had been a long couple of months and he needed to get some sleep and wait to see where tomorrow would take him.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Italy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

Chapter Two

Ludwig wished, and not for the first time either, that Kiku was still around. His house was a mess, and there was probably nothing the Japanese man loved more than cleaning, well perhaps he did love those crazy writers who wrote with pictures and not words like most writers did more, but still Kiku was an excellent person to have around when you needed to clean your house. But more than anything the house was silent. Devoid of the life Ludwig had always remembered from before the war and even during it. Feliciano would make pasta; Gilbert would have made some kind of a mess that he would undoubtedly have to clean up. Sometimes even, Gilbert would have his two best friends over, Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carrido; the representations of France and Spain respectively. Both were extremely loud when drunk, and the trio's favorite thing to do together was to get drunk. And Rodriech was always visiting for whatever reason, and then when Germany annexed Austria he moved in and constantly playing his piano despite what the others in the house might feel about his obnoxious piano playing, seriously he needed a new hobby.

Ludwig shook his head as he walked up to the once majestic oak table; it had scorch marks and chips throughout it now. The table had been a gift to the young nation from his first ruler after being unified Wilhelm I. Thinking about them wouldn't bring them back into his life. No, he'd have to apologize to the Austrian first to get him to forgive him for the atrocities committed under the Nazi's control. After all it had been Ludwig who had convinced Rodriech to join them in unifying Austria and Germany together. And when it came to seeing Gilbert again, well God only knew when that would happen. Ivan was a very possessive person who wanted everyone to become one with Mother Russia and there was very little of a chance that Ivan would give up those under Soviet Control without some kind of bloodshed.

He didn't even want to imagine the Italian in the kitchen that he now looked into making pasta while humming an old Italian song, a bright smile on his face that was so contagious it took every ounce of self-control Ludwig had not to start grinning like the idiot. The kitchen now looked so empty and bare from what he could see sitting at the dining room table. Closing his eyes Ludwig imagined a happier time. One right before the war, Feliciano had been making pasta like always, spaghetti if Ludwig was remembering correctly, and Gilbert was sitting at the table with Ludwig both of them were laughing at a joke Francis had just made. The memory seemed as if it had happened a life time ago now instead of only six years, which wasn't very long in the amount of time nations lived look at Arthur and Francis for example who had been around for more than a millennia and it was rumored that Antonio knew Julius when he was a teenager which was longer then a millennia ago.

"Woof," he heard before hearing the soft padding that dogs made when they walked on hardwood flooring. The sound of shaking metal as the tag collided into the collar itself. And then Ludwig's brown Doberman Berlizt walked out of the shadows tail wagging, excited to see his master again. The Doberman had been with Ludwig as long as the blond nation could remember; he had been one of the first gifts he had received from his brother, Gilbert.

"Berlizt, come back." Said a soft and gentle female voice that Ludwig instantly recognized, the nation of Liechtenstein, a small country to the south of Germany that was under the protection of Switzerland. Ludwig wondered if the gun crazy nation would come knocking his door down any minute looking for the girl.

"Lilli, what are you doing here?" Ludwig asked, there was a hint of sternness in his voice as he spoke to the young nation. And she looked up at him with big doe like blue eyes. It was a wonder Vash didn't give into her every whim. Ludwig was sure he would have if he was her big brother.

"Taking care of your dogs while you and Mr. Gilbert were away. I heard what happened to your brother. I want you to know that Vash doesn't think what the Allies did was fair. And now right before I left Vash received a phone call saying that they were going to dismantle the Prussian state. Does this mean that Mr. Gilbert is going to die?" Lilli asked, Ludwig clenched his fist, Alfred had promised to do everything he could to make sure Gilbert survived, but it looked like even the hero couldn't always change Arthur and Ivan's mind. Ludwig knew for a fact that Francis hadn't been voting for Gil's death, the two were best friends.

"I hadn't heard that. Does Vash know you're here?" Lilli nodded looking a little put out.

"It was Vash's idea that I take care of Berlizt while you were away. Are you going to get more dogs? I think he might be lonely."

"I-I don't know." Ludwig had never thought about getting another dog. For as long as Ludwig could remember, even that wasn't as long as some of the other countries could remember; it had just been him, Berlizt and Gilbert. Happy, content, just glad to have each other's companies. Ludwig wasn't sure why Francis and Antonio hadn't been around. From what he had gathered from conversations, at the time he had appeared Francis and Gilbert had been on the outs with one another and Antonio refused to take sides.

But now there was no more Gilbert, maybe getting another dog might help the emptiness that was growing inside his heart.

"Well think about it, Mr. Ludwig, I should be going now. Vash will be wondering where I am." Lilli said heading for the door Ludwig had just walked through. Had the girl just called him Mr. Ludwig? That made him feel really old.

"Er, just call me Ludwig okay. I'm not one to be called Mister right now. Not with how most people view me." Ludwig protested, Lilli just shrugged as she walked out of the house, and Ludwig reached for the phone, Alfred had some explaining to do.

"Well did you read the treaty all the way through?" Alfred asked after Ludwig finished yelling at him about his promise to keep his brother alive.

"Yes of course I did." Ludwig said feeling his nose grow with his lie. Alfred only laughed.

"Sure, sure. Article 25 of section 17?" Alfred said unconvinced by the German's words. He was so care free and forgiving, how could he act like that after losing thousands of soldiers in a war that was his fault.

"_Was_?" Ludwig asked,

"Ha, I knew you hadn't read it thoroughly, not that I blame you. I made the whole thing long, drawn out and boring so that the others wouldn't read it all the way either they'd just agree to it." Alfred said, "I did that for this one section. It was the only section I knew that would give the others some grievances really. It divides Germany representation into two parts. In signing the treaty you gave Gilbert representation of the Eastern part of Germany." Not for the first time did the American catch Ludwig off his guard. He wondered if Alfred purposely acted like an idiot to catch the other nations off their guard, it certainly had worked this time. Ludwig wondered what the look on Ivan's face would be when he realized Gilbert wasn't going to die.

"You're certainly full of surprises." Ludwig remarked shaking his head, he had been played the fool.

"So, all's forgiven?"

"_Ja, ich glaube, so._"

"Good, well Kiku and I were talking about having a dinner meeting thing at my place next Thursday, do you think you could come too? It doesn't have to be about work. I think we could hang out and strengthen international relationship. But if you're busy with a certain Italian-"

"Italy and I have not spoken in years." Ludwig cut him off, "I would be happy to have dinner with you and Kiku next Thursday."

"You haven't spoken with Feliciano since he betrayed you have you? Look I know it might not be my place, I don't really have any care in the world for what is dictated proper, frankly it gets in the way too much. But I think you should talk to Feliciano. He's not doing so well right now. Francis is going to see him tomorrow, but Lovino is very worried. I mean he's letting Francis come over." Ludwig frowned at hearing the news about his old friend, trying to push down the urge to run across Vash's house to see him. But he couldn't, not yet, not until he could show Feliciano how sorry he was for making him suffer during the war.

"I need to go, I have some business to take care of. I'll see you Thursday then? _Auf Wiedersehen._" Ludwig said hanging up the phone quickly before Alfred could protest. If Alfred had continued, Ludwig wasn't sure he could have held himself back from seeing the Italian. And right now letters would have to do.

_Lieber Italien,_

_I returned home today, its nice to not be imprisoned any more. I hope you are glad to hear that. You haven't responded back to my last letter, but I can't blame you. I wouldn't blame you if you burned this without reading it. I deserve nothing less. __But somehow imagining you reading this with your child like look on the world makes me feel better. Makes me feel like I can make it through the day._

_It doesn't matter now. I hope you're doing well. They'll be holding war trials for some of my bosses, and I don't feel sad to know that most of them will die, I mostly just feel relieved about the whole thing. I hope that once it is all over, Germans will be seen as people again, allies, not monsters, not enemies. Which reminds me, Alfred has done me a great favor, he is the reason my brother will survive the dissolution of Prussia. __I don't think I will ever be able to repay him for that._

_ Ludwig_

**Author note (The time of the chapter where the author comes out and writes a silly note): I'm back, yeah I had hoped to get this chapter out sooner, but life happens (called standerize testing). I'm happy to report that I am working on chapter 3 and its coming very well and I hope to have it posted later today or tomorrow. Heh, heh (author scratches the back of her head as she comes up with some excuse as to her lateness in posting) yeah so I'll be going now.**

**PS: Something I forgot to do in the last chapter the dictionary of german words that I use, I won't be repeating words that I use a lot like _was_ because it'll be a pain and troublesome and I'm lazy.**

_**lieber Italien**_**: dear Italy  
><em>was<em>: what  
><em>Auf Widersehen<em>: good bye (formal)  
><em>Ja, ich glaube, so<em>: Yes, I believe so.**

**From chapter one:**

_**bruder**_**: brother  
><em>nein<em>: no  
><em>Italien<em>: Italy  
><strong>

**I think that's all Yay! I use a lot of German in my writing (especially when writing about Ludwig and the other German speaking nations) as I am a German Two student. Handy huh?**


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Italy

Chapter Three

**I don't own Hetalia (though I wish I did like every other fan girl)**

Feliciano looked down at the picture of the five of them, the Axis Powers, which was cradled in between his knees in his lap. They'd lost the war, and it was his fault, he and Lovino had let them down by surrendering to the Allies first. Well Lovino had surrendered to the Allies first; Feliciano surrendered only after he realized what he would lose if he didn't. But still the price he was now paying for his actions three years ago was more then he thought he could bear. He had lost Ludwig, his second love, he had lost his friendship with Kiku, he had lost what dignity and trust any other country could put into him by turning traitor for a second time. Well Lovino was dealing with that. He had taken over the duties of helping their boss so Feliciano didn't have to leave their villa in Sicily. And he hadn't, not since he had been able to come home after the war.

He had heard from his brother that Ludwig was no longer imprisoned due to Alfred's constant badgering. He had plans for the disgraced German nation. He had also heard that Gilbert had been given to Ivan and also that the country of Prussia was to be dissolved, Gilbert had only survived by a loop hole that Alfred created in the treaty which gave him control over East Germany, that divided the country much like and Lovino divided Italy. The world was changing, rapidly and to be frank it scared Feliciano. He was use to change, he had lived for too long not to be use to it. But change was usually slow, especially on a national scale for it to effect countries. But everything now days seemed to be defying the norm that he enjoyed. The world was being divided into two groups, democracy and communist. Whispers of another war, a different kind of war had reached Feliciano's ears despite his self-imposed banishment from the world.

"Mister Vargas, there's someone here to see you." Said one of Feliciano's assistants, Bella was her name. Feliciano didn't really care, women didn't hold any interest to him anymore, not since flirting with them wouldn't get a reaction out of anybody anymore.

"Let them in," Feliciano said with a sigh putting the picture back onto his nightstands. A long haired blond man walked in, his cheerful smile turned into a frown once he saw Feliciano's disheveled state. A small beard was growing on his normally cleanly shaven face; his hair was unkempt, his curl looking droopy. There were purple bruises growing under his eyes from the sleepless night. His face was pale and sunken.

"_Mon cher_," said the Frenchman, "when was the last time you went outside? You look like the walking dead. Why is Lovino running the affairs of your part of the country? Why are you so miserable looking?" Francis grabbed Feliciano's arm and pulled him out of the dark bedroom and into the sunlit hallway. The Italian tried to shield his eyes from the harsh sunlight he had been hiding from for the past couple of months.

"_Lu mi odia_," Feliciano said quietly as Francis helped him into a chair on the back veranda that looked over Lovino's tomato plants. "I abandoned him, again." No names needed to be spoken, Francis was very much aware of who his deemed little brother loved. The thought of how much pain he himself had put Feliciano in tugged at his heart. It had been him who had dealt the finishing blow to the Holy Roman Empire, Feliciano's first love and it had been him who had wanted Ludwig to remain imprisoned for an indefinite amount of time.

"_Non_, _mon cher_. He would never hate you. Be disappointed in you, _oui_. But never hate you." Francis said trying to cheer up the despaired man. Feliciano looked up at him with his sunken in brown eyes and for the first time in a while they held a spark.

"Did you hear about Gilbert, how Alfred saved him?" Feliciano asked changing the subject abruptly while reaching for a chocolate biscotti that the cook had made for them.

"_Oui, Angleterre _was beside himself when he realized the clever trick _Ame_

_rique_ pulled." Francis smiled to himself, Feliciano was happy to see Francis was smiling, he hadn't seen the blond man smile like that since before the war. "I will miss Gilbert while he's under Ivan and the _affreux L'Union sovie__tique."_

"I hope he's doing okay." Feliciano whispered staring down at the biscotti in his hands. Francis only raised an eyebrow.

"Have you tried to see him?"

"Ve ~ Why would he want to see a traitor like me? It must have felt like I cut out his heart and stomped on it." Feliciano moaned hiding his face behind his hands. He wasn't sure if he could face Francis as he thought about the night before he left the Axis Powers. Lovino had already left, already surrendered to the Allies, but Ludwig was fighting desperately to keep control of the northern part of Italy.

"What happened, _mon cher_, you can tell big brother France." Francis said with a smile. Italy shook his head, it had been three years ago and yet Lovino, Feliciano's own true brother didn't know the details of what happened that night. "You'll feel better if you talk to someone about it. I know it helps. It took me many years to tell Gilbert what happened the night I killed the Holy Roman Empire, and afterward I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my chest." Feliciano shuddered not wanting to imagine his 'big brother' killing the first love of his life. It had been hard enough to deal with when it was fresh, now over a hundred years later and it was still not a topic Feliciano talked about.

"We were talking around our campfire, Kiku wasn't there like he normally would because he had been called away by his boss to help fight in the Pacific, so it was just Ludwig and me. And I was talking about Holy Rome. And I knew this would be our last night together, my boss had already ordered me to surrender." At this point Feliciano broke into tears; Francis moved chairs so that he sat beside the crying man instead of across from him, trying to comfort him.

Feliciano could see the fire light of that night and the way the mountain smelt in the autumn. The way Ludwig had looked that night, tired because he was fighting for him, for Italy and Feliciano knew he would be betraying tomorrow.

_"Italy," Germany said with a sigh as the Italian refused to go to bed. "Go to bed."_

_"Not until you promise something." Feliciano protested, Ludwig sighed again rubbing his hand over his face._

_"Feliciano, what do you want me to promise."_

_"Well," Feli began, "Its more like something I want to know if you feel the same then a promise. Do you remember our Pact of Steel?"_

_"_Ja_, why?"_

_"I wanted to know if it was still intact."_

_"Of course, why wouldn't it?" Ludwig had a confused look on his face. "Feli, you aren't making any sense."_

_"Because I love you, and I wanted to know if you loved me too." Feliciano confessed staring into the fire and not at the German beside him. He fiddled with the Iron Cross, a necklace Feliciano had given to him when they made the Pact of Steel._

_"Love you?" Ludwig looked up at the starry night sky and was quiet for a few moments before looking back at Feli. "_Ja_, I think I may be in love with you, Feli." Feliciano smiled his widest smile; there was nothing to be afraid of now. He would surrender tomorrow yes, but Ludwig loved him and they would get together when the war was over. Surely Ludwig wouldn't fight too much longer now that he was surrendering._

If only he had known then what he knew now. The look on Ludwig's face when he realized what he was doing was enough to make him hate himself. Feli hadn't even realized he had begun to hold the Iron Cross in his hands that he still wore around his neck even after three years of separation from Ludwig.

"Did he give that to you?" Francis asked,

"_Si_, but not that night, he gave to me when we made our Pact of Steel and he promised to always come to my aide." Feliciano explained looking at the silver and black pendent, Ludwig and Gilbert wore matching ones and Vash wore one similar to it but not quite the same, his was all silver. The Nordic States also had a thing for wearing the crosses. Tino wore one around his collar like Gilbert did, as did Mattias whereas Lukkas wore his in his hair like a barrette. Feliciano wasn't sure where Berwald wore his though he was sure the Swedish man did wear one. Even Lovino and Antonio wore crosses, only theirs were religious.

"I see," Francis said,

"What if he never comes back, Francis? What if something happens and he never returns to me like Holy Rome, I don't know if I can do that again." Feliciano said trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"You bastard, what did you do to make my brother cry? It better have not been anything perverted." Lovino said hands on his hips as he walked out onto the veranda. He looked pissed off at Francis, and seeing as he could hardly stand to look at the man, Feliciano could admire his restraints not to kill Francis right then and there.

"He didn't, I was just thinking." Feliciano said trying to calm his brother down.

"You better not be crying over that potato dick-head, he's not worth your tears."

"And what about Antonio, you cry over him sometimes!" Feliciano shouted back, he wouldn't have his brother dictate who he was allowed to cry over or love or anything.

"I...I don't cry, I had something in my eye while I was complaining about the Tomato Bastard." Lovino stuttered, he didn't like it when the tables were turned on him.

"Well, Feliciano, it has been a nice chat. But I should probably get back to France." Francis said pushing his chair away from the wicker table and standing up.

"_Si,_ _addio._" Feliciano said quietly standing up as well, "_Grazie _for listening."

"_Au revoir mon cher._" Franicis said and then walking off the veranda he made his way back to his car, leaving the Italy brothers to their own devices. Lovino frowned, not at Francis and his abrupt departure but at a letter in the mail, a letter from his favorite German addressed to his little brother. Giving it to Feliciano never even crossed his mind as he shut it into a drawer in a desk beside the door.

**Author Note (The part of the chapter where the author comes out and writes a silly note): I'm back, and whew, that one was full of emotions. But I thought we should see Feliciano's point of view. He's facing some troubled emotions isn't he? The next chapter will have a time skip as I plan on this fic to last until 1989 when the Berlin Wall falls, I guess it first has to go up, right? **

**Alrighty here's today's translation (I had to use Google Translator though as I'm no fluent enough in French or Italian.)**

_**Mon cher**_**: my dear (masculine and french)**

_**Lu mi odia**_**: he hates me (Italian)**

_**Non**_**: no (French)**

_**Oui**_**: yes (French)**

_**Angleterre**_**: England (French)**

_**Amerique**_**: America (French)**

_**affreux L'Union sovie**_

_**tique**_**: awful Soviet Union (French)**

_**Ja**_**: yes (German)**

_**Si**_**: yes (Italian)**

_**Addio**_**: goodbye (Italian)**

_**Grazie**_**: thank you (Italian)**

_**Au revoir**_**: good bye (French)**

**I think that's all, I hope so my pinky's tired from pressing down the control key. If only it was my left pinky then I could get a work out done with it so it wouldn't hurt so much when I play my flute.**

**If any of my translations are off and you realize it, please don't hesitate to tell me. I don't like looking like an idiot. Wow this is a long author's note. Sorry :D. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear Italy**

Chapter Four

**I don't own Hetalia.**

"I have a plan." Alfred F. Jones announced to the room full of nations, "But, I'm going to need all of your help." Behind the American was a political map of Germany, hanging down from the ceiling. He looked tired and wearier then the last time Ludwig had seen him a few months ago, was Ivan responsible for that too, he wondered. Elsewhere in the small conference room, Arthur let out a small groan. That made Ludwig frown, the island nation was the only one in the room that still refused to see that Alfred really had matured. "What if we airlifted the supplies West Berlin needs? The air is the only way we'll be able to travel to and back over East Germany."

"But what if Russia counters attack with his own air force?" Mathew, Alfred's twin brother and neighbor to the north, pointed out. The platinum blond was not trying to be a downer, only pointing out what he saw as a logical flaw in his brother's plan. Alfred only smiled at him in return.

"That's where you all fit in. Ivan will be overwhelmed with the sheer amount of countries against him, that he'll surely back down." Alfred said giving everyone his famous 'hero smile' and a thumbs up. Ludwig had to admire the way the American knew when to be serious, and when he could add in his childish flair. Ludwig never could relax his audiences like that.

"I don't know Alfred, Ivan doesn't think like a normal human." Arthur countered, and Alfred's smile turned sour. The other nations/colonies sitting around the blond island nation shifted slightly away, fearing Alfred's wrath.

"Well what's your plan?" Alfred snapped, his arms were crossed and his body tensed as if begging for a fight. "Trying to reason with the Bastard?"

"Diplomacy should be our first priority. You have yet to learn that." The British Empire lectured as if Alfred was still one of his colonies instead of being a nation for a century and a half. Ludwig was glad his own older brother Gilbert had never treated him like that.

"At least I knew what I wanted when I dumped your tea in my harbor." Alfred snarled, Ludwig noticed that the other nations/colonies looked just as confused as he felt. When had Alfred dumping tea into harbors had anything to do with the current issue at hand or diplomacy for that matter? And when had Alfred ever dumped tea into a harbor anyway?

"Alfred and a group of men known as the Sons of Liberty dumped a bunch of British tea into the Boston Harbor before the American Revolution." Mathew whispered while the two continued to fight. "What that has to do with our present situation is a mystery though." Ludwig only shook his head; Alfred had allowed his childish side to rear its ugly face and goading Arthur into a fight because he was mad that the Britt didn't like his idea.

"Enough!" Ludwig shouted finally after a couple minutes of the continued fighting that none of the other nations were willing to stop. The whole room fell silent, since the end of World War Two, he had made it a habit to keep his mouth shut and his head down, fearing rebuking for his previous leaders' actions. "This is my capital at stake here! It will be my people who will suffer, not any of yours! Quit your useless bickering!" Arthur flushed red, while Alfred beamed at Ludwig. Wait, why was Alfred happy? What did the sly _dumkopf _have planned now, Ludwig wondered.

"What do you propose then, Ludwig?" Alfred asked all traces of his previous argument gone from his voice.

"We try your idea. Negotiations can take too long and I won't let my people suffer." Arthur let out a huff as Ludwig finished, mumbling something under his breath and crossing his arms. Everyone knew full well that it was just because their leaders were on semi good terms with each other now, that didn't mean Arthur had forgiven the Germanic country for London and the other industrial cities Ludwig's Luftwaffe destroyed.

"Can we count you in, Arthur?" the American asked, the Britt sighed before nodding. Despite his current feelings for the nation, Arthur could not and would not allow Ivan to continue to bully all the other nations to get what he wanted.

"I suppose I can't let the Commies win?" Arthur said flustering slightly.

"Alrighty then!" Alfred shouted, raising his fist and bringing it down in a celebratory manner. "We'll have to gather together the necessary supplies for Berlin. How long do you think it will survive before needing the supplies?"

"About a week," Ludwig said,

"Okay, so we've got airplanes already in Germany, we'll bring the supplies there tomorrow and fly them to Berlin as soon as possible." The others in the room nodded. "Meeting adjourned then."

After most of the others had filed out, Ludwig waited patiently for Mathew to finish talking to his brother about the logistics of the air lift between their two countries. He didn't mind waiting, well somewhat; his patience was often tested with the Italies, but whose wasn't?

"We'll figure it out, okay, Mattie. Just as long as you're my copilot, there's nothing we can't do." Alfred declared to his brother, the quiet Canadian smiled and watching the two of them reminded Ludwig of him and his own brother at one point in their lives.

_"You know, you're pretty awesome, little dude, almost as awesome as the awsomest person on this planet. Do you know who that is?" Gilbert asked as he patted a young Ludwig's blond head. Gilbird, Gilbert's immortal little yellow chick, rested in Gilbert's own white hair letting out a few peeps while he slept._

_"You," The younger Ludwig responded with a laugh and a huge smile. He was so glad that he had his older brother to guide him through how to be a country, he'd heard lots of stories of how others had to learn how to be on their own, a frightful prospect for the young German nation to think about._

_"That's right, and I'll always be here to protect you, mein bruder." Gilbert said lowering himself down to his brother's level so that his red eyes looked straight into Ludwig's blue ones._

_"Always?" the young nation asked uncertainly._

_"Always." Gilbert promised and gave him a huge grin._

How he missed Gilbert since Ivan had taken him away after World War Two, his warm, cheerful attitude had brought in a lot of light into Ludwig's life that Ludwig had to admit he'd taken for granted before. Now he just wished for an hour to talk to his brother and just laugh and drink a beer together like they use to in a not so distant past.

Mathew left the room and Ludwig moved to talk with Alfred. "What was that?" He asked, "You were acting all serious and the you picked a fight with Arthur. Do you want respect or do you want to be seen as an idiot?" Most other countries would never have dared to speak to Alfred like this to his face, but Ludwig had fought against the blond in two bloody wars. They had seen each other at each other's worst and there was a mutual respect between the two of them now.

"I want respect, but more importantly I want others to realize their potential. You are a strong leader; you're good at making sure there's order. But recently you've been a follower; you can never regain your honor by being a follower. I picked a fight with Iggy for the reaction I got from you. You quickly took the meeting over, something you should have been in charge of in the first place seeing as it's your people who are suffering." Ludwig frowned; the _dumkopf_ had outwitted him, and managed to help him gain respect internationally.

"Arthur didn't even realize it, did he? You're smarter then he gives you credit."

"Iggy is blind to things he doesn't want to see. Eventually he'll have to come to terms, but not yet. I don't really care." Alfred shrugged as he spoke about his former caretaker and older brother. Then he was quiet for a moment, and then he opened his mouth to speak again. Anger had entered his blue eyes. "It's not fair." The nonchalance had left his voice, being replaced by coldness. A coldness that was not something Ludwig would have categorized as a characteristic of the American. It was like ice, and a chill had entered the room, running down Ludwig's spine. "Ivan has not right to be doing this to you, or anyone else" Was this bitter iciness a result of the feud Alfred now had with his former ally? And if this was the beginning of it, what would the middle bring, or the end?

"It's not a matter of right or wrong, it's now a matter of fixing the issue." Ludwig then said as an after note "_Vor können viele Leute sterben._"

"Huh?"

"How many German speakers came to your country?"

"Lost count," Alfred said with a shrug. "Too many people all at once. It was overwhelming at times." His dark expression had left for the time being and normal, cheerful Alfred had returned.

"I should go." Ludwig said, "My people need me."

"Will you be at the air fields tomorrow?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Ich weiss nicht.<em>" Then Ludwig left the meeting room.

_Lieber Italien, _

_I suppose you've heard about what is going on in West Berlin and the Soviet blockade. We think we've come up with a solution as to how to get around it. But I can't tell you any more than that, sorry. How is your economy coming? I miss your company a lot. Sorry the letter is so short, but I have to get to the airfields._

_ Ludwig_

The airfield was crowded with human aviators from the newly formed American Air Force, preparing for the first flights to get around the Russian blockade in a desperate, it seemed, attempt to save his people. "Ludwig, I knew you'd be here." Alfred said, his presence didn't surprise the German one bit. Wherever his soldiers went, Alfred went too. "Your plane is in the hanger." He jerked his thumb to the metal gray building behind him. Ludwig wasted no time making his way over to it.

The plane inside was his baby, his Messerschmitt Bf 110, that had been confiscated from him after his surrender in May of 1945. It was a propeller plane originally, used by his people in the early years of the war, that Ludwig had modified himself so that it ran off a jet engine instead of the propeller. He noticed that the black and red swastika was missing from where it had been painted on near the tail of the plane. Ludwig couldn't say he would mourn the loss of the symbol either, he would really just like to forget about that chapter of his life. But what did surprise him was the black eagle crest of the Prussian flag painted on it; he technically still did not have a national flag as he was still controlled by the Allies. Though Alfred had hinted at one of their last meetings that he was putting pressure on Francis and Arthur to just let West Germany be its own country.

"Like it?" Alfred asked, Ludwig stiffened slightly, he had not heard the normally noisy American come up behind him. "I didn't think the other symbol was appropriate for you." Ludwig nodded in agreement.

"_Ja, danke_."

"I thought you'd like it, I actually did the painting myself. Think of it as a gesture of good will." Ludwig not sure how to respond looked around for the blond Britt who always seemed to be following Alfred, or was it the other way around?

"Where's Arthur?"

"Hamburg. That's where the RAF is taking off from." Alfred gave the plane a light hit. "Gear up, we'll be leaving in an hour." Ludwig sighed, well at least the American had given him that much warning.

**Author Note (the part of the story where the author come out and write a silly note): Well, it's not three weeks this time. And to be honest I had most of this written a while ago, it was more just trying to find the time to type it up. I had an enormous paper in English, there, that's my excuse. Ha, ha, anyway, I did have to do more research for this chapter then the other three cause I couldn't mess up the Berlin Airlift. A Messerschmitt Bf110 was really used by Germany in World War two by the way, it's a pretty cool plane. Any way onto the translations.**

**Translations:**

_**Dumkopf**_**: idiot, stupid, dumb head**

_**Vor können viele Leute sterben.**_**: Before many people can die.**

_**Ich weiss nicht.**_**: I don't know**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear Italy**

Chapter Five

**I don't own Hetalia.**

**A.N: **Okay, funny place for me to do an author's note because I typically do them at the end. But I wanted to make sure that this got in before I forgot for the third time in a row. I want to say thank you for the wonderful reviews I've gotten and the favorites and the story alerts. They say when it comes to writers that they themselves are their biggest critic and if you look on my page you'll see that the last time I posted anything before this story was two or three years ago, I wanted my writing to become more developed before I posted anything more, and though I'm sure I could do better I'm satisfied with what I'm writing for "Dear Italy". Wow this author's note ran longer than expected. So I'll stop rambling and say on with the story.

* * *

><p>Feliciano hated hurting people, he hated the way the gun in his hand felt, metallic, he hated the stench of iron and water mixed together making a rustic smell that was blood. But working with his brother and the Italian mafia was his punishment to himself for betraying those who trusted him the most. "Hurry up Feli, I can hear the sirens already." Lovino said as he walked out of the dark alley where another body lay. Feliciano sighed looking back at the dead man who had done something against the mafia, most likely. Neither he nor Lovino often went out and did the actual dirty work; mob dons didn't normally do that kind of things, that's why they had underlings. But this guy must have really pissed Lovino off if the was taking him out himself.<p>

"Coming, fratello." Feliciano said running to catch up to his brother who was now smoothing out his black suit and putting his sun glasses on as he stepped out into the bright and sunny day in Naples.

Four years ago when he had decided to join his brother in running the Italian mafia in Sicily and Naples, he never would have been able to join his brother on a mission like this. He would have passed out at the thought of killing another person. But now, now he just felt numb. He had not healed after talking with his older brother Francis four years ago about his relationship with Ludwig, he had only found another way to block out the world. Instead of locking himself up in his room and not allowing the world in, he had locked up his heart and turned numb inside. His punishment.

"Jeesh, you're so spacy today." Lovino said irritably as he drove the two of them back to the hotel they were staying at on their trip to Naples. Tomorrow they would drive back to Rome where they normally lived when not called away on some kind of business. "What's gotten into you?"

"Does the killing bother you?" Feli asked quietly looking out at the streets of Naples instead of his brother as he spoke.

"Sometimes," Lovino said quietly back allowing his guard to fall for the briefest of moments. "But that guy deserved what was coming to him."

"Why? What the hell did that man do to piss you off?" Feliciano asked very out of character. But he couldn't take it anymore, he was tired of killing innocent people and he wanted out. He wanted to run all the way to Germany and beg for however long he needed to gain back the German man's love.

"It's… It's none of your business. Don't question the mafia don." Lovino snapped his grip on the steering wheel tightened which told Feliciano there was more to the story then his brother was letting on. But he didn't press for answers; Lovino would give him them when he was ready and not a moment before. The rest of the trip back to the hotel was filled with silence, neither one of them ready to speak with the other.

Once in the hotel room Lovino flopped onto his bed and was out cold within seconds. Feliciano on the other hand sat down on his bed and turned the radio on quietly. The news would be coming on the air soon and Feliciano was sure he would here about the man in the alley that they had killed.

"_Buon pomeriggo, questa e` Roberto Vinci portandovi il vostro telegiornale della sera_." Said the radio, static came after every word the man said. "First on our broadcast today, the man hunt for the kidnapper Benadick Mazell is over. He was found dead today in an alleyway shot in the head. His killer is still at large." Feliciano looked over at his brother's sleeping form. Had Lovino known the man was a kidnapper, or had that been just chance?

"Antonio," Lovino murmured in his sleep.

"Authorities suspect that Benadick's killer is the same person who killed the Samari family murder about a month ago in Venice." Roberto Vinci continued, Feliciano eyes widened, his brother had gone on a "business trip" to Venice about a month ago.

"_Fratello_," Feliciano said turning the radio off, "_Fratello_, you've got some explaining to do." But Lovino hardly stirred while his brother talked to him. Feliciano sighed and stood up from his bed and started to pace the room waiting for his brother to wake from his _siesta_.

"I need to know _Fratello_," Feliciano said to the mirror in the bathroom trying to figure out what to say to his brother when they eventually talked about today.

"Need to know what, Feli?" Lovino asked appearing in the doorway of the bathroom, his arms were crossed, his hair disheveled from his nap. Feliciano looked at his brother through his reflection in the mirror. He hadn't wanted his brother to hear that, he wasn't sure he knew what to say. "What do you need to know?" Lovino asked more irritably.

"The man you killed today, the radio said that he was a kidnapper." Feliciano said hesitantly.

"So?" Lovino asked leaning against the doorframe, his arms still crossed.

"The radio also said that the police believe that his killer is the same person who killed a murderer in Venice a month ago." Feliciano continued his voice still hesitant, waiting for his brother to blow up in his face and tell him it was none of his business and he needed to stop nosing in other people's business. But Lovino didn't.

"And?" was the older brother's response.

"You were in Venice a month ago. Why? Was it to kill that man? The murderer."

"And if it was? Does killing those who do wrong make me a bad person, Feliciano?" Lovino asked walking across the bathroom to stand beside his brother.

"No, but why kill them. Why not subdue them and then turn them into the police? Anyway you're a mob boss? Why are you killing people who do bad things? Why not recruit them into your mafia like the others do." Lovino laughed at his brother's words. It wasn't a manic laugh, but it wasn't his normal laugh either, it was sarcastic.

"You should sit down, _fratellino_."

"_Perche_

?" Feliciano asked as his brother led him back into the main part of the hotel room. His legs gave out under him when he backed into Lovino's bed and he fell on it still looking at his brother.

"I'm not a mafia don. I don't have anything to do with the mafia. Not really." Lovino admitted, "It's a cover up for something bigger."

"What?" Feliciano asked confused. His brother's mafia wasn't really a mafia. And he'd been a part of it for four years and hadn't known.

"It's an international spy fighting organization lead by Alfred."

"What? But you killed two men that were bad guys." Feliciano repeated his earlier question. Now he was really confused, when had Alfred started an international spy fighting organization? It sounded like something the brash American would do, but still, wouldn't it have gone around the countries?

"We fight crime as well. Ivan has spies everywhere, especially among the underground. Those two men I killed were Russian spies."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"Because, now that you know the truth. You have to be initiated into the organization. That's why many of the people who work under us don't know the truth. The more who know, the greater the chance that the secret gets out and Alfred doesn't want that to happen." Lovino explained, he glanced down had Feliciano a few times while he spoke to make sure that he was keeping up with everything that he was explaining. He knew full well that his brother wasn't as stupid as he'd like the other countries to believe. He only acted stupid to make the other countries underestimate him. But still, anybody could get lost when a lot of information was given to them all at once.

"Oh, what do I have to do to get initiated then?" Feliciano asked, then frowned suddenly, a thought had popped into his head. Something that he would like to avoid if at all possible. "Is Ludwig part of this organization?"

"No, the Kraut bastard isn't. Alfred wants him to join, but I doubt he will. He's too busy trying to fix his country's economy and pick up the pieces of being a divided nation once again." Feliciano nodded, another thought popped into his head, a more pleasant idea then the one before. Perhaps if he helped rid the world of Communism with his brother and Alfred, then maybe he could redeem himself in Ludwig's eyes and the German would love him again.

"What do I have to do?"

"Er, just pledge yourself to Alfred that you will never join Communism and will fight against it till your last breath." Lovino said with a shrug, "He's not really that picky."

Three days later Feliciano received his first assignment from Alfred, he was to go to Norway and help take care of an underground Communist group there. "Can you send this to Ludwig for me?" he asked his brother handing him an envelope, right before boarding the plane that would take him to Oslo, the capital of Norway.

"Tsch," was Lovino's reply, Feliciano noticed his brother was trying really hard not to crumple up the envelope, then and there.

"_Per favore_," Feliciano begged, Lovino looked away from him and his brown eyes.

"Whatever."

"_Grazie_." Then Feliciano turned and climbed the stairs that went straight onto the plane he was to board. He smiled as he readied himself for his future. There would be no turning around now, he wouldn't let himself turn around and go back to the sunless room pinning away for Ludwig, no he would prove to Ludwig that he wasn't spineless anymore and that he would never betray him again.

**Author's note (The part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): Hey I'm back, I swear I didn't die. So I was involved in a play that took up a lot of my time. Plus I wrote chapter 5 in a notebook, disliked what I wrote and completely changed it. Chapter 5 was supposed to focus on Ludwig not Feliciano, but I thought I knew what I wanted to happen to Feli so I decided to change chapter 5 to focus on him, only when I started to write it, the chapter took on a life of its own. Alfred's spy organization was not in the original plot that I came up with. But I think it makes an interesting twist, tell me what you think about it though.**

**Anyway I get out of school this Friday so I'll hopefully update more quickly cause I'll be on summerbreak. Oh the wonderfulness of living in the south (I'm not telling you where perverts) ha,ha, okay so its late I'll just finish up with the translations.**

**Translations:**

**Buon pomeriggo, questa e` Roberto Vinci portandovi il vostro telegiornale della sera: **_**Good afternoon, this is Roberto Vinci with your new this afternoon.**_

**Fratellino: little brother**

**Perche**

**: **_**Why**_

**Per favore: **_**please**_

Need I tell you it's all Italian?


	6. Chapter 6

**Dear Italy**

**Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_**The blood poured off of his hands and Ludwig could see all of the tens of millions that his leaders had killed in their great purge, the Jews, the insane, the gypsies, the political prisoners, the homosexuals and Ludwig wondered absentmindedly if his leaders had known about his relationship with Feliciano, would they have forced him into one of those camps, or would they have tried to beat the gay out of him?**_

_**They closed in around him screaming for help, for loved ones, for the pain to stop, to be rescued, they asked why, why had he allowed his bosses to kill them? And he asked himself the same question. He had felt some of them die, not all of those killed had been German, and most of them had not even been killed on German soil, but never the less he should have known. The hushed whispers of the higher ups in the military, the rumors that had spread around Europe of the camps, he had heard them, Feliciano had heard them and even though he had asked his boss about them, nothing had come of it.**_

_**Then the masses closed in on him and Ludwig felt himself drown in their pain.**_

Panting heavily, Ludwig sat up and pushed the covers off of him. Sweat rolled down his face as Ludwig crossed the fumilure room to the bathroom. He turned on the water in the sink and splashed it onto his face telling himself that it had just been a dream even though it had felt so real. Then he looked into the mirror and screamed. Staring back at him was not the Ludwig he had been for the past ten years, but the old one the crazy one. He was wearing his gray SS uniform with the swastika band around his arm in bright red standing out against the uniform. Blood stained his hands much like it had in the dream and it seemed to surround him. It seemed to him that the mirror him was laugh manically until he realized that he himself was actually the one laughing.

"Ludwig!" Kiku said coming into the bathroom, the laughing stopped and Ludwig looked into Kiku's eyes with the most sorrow Kiku had ever seen from his friend before falling to the floor.

"Can you see him too, Kiku? That man I became after I lost Feliciano? The crazy one." Ludwig asked, "Can you see all the carnage I caused." Kiku bent down beside him, before sitting beside him leaning his head up against the door, looking at the ceiling.

"We caused," Kiku corrected, he looked over at Ludwig who was staring at the tile flooring they both sat on. "I murdered innocents as much as you did, I was insane as well. We've both murdered millions unnessacarily just to prove that we were powerful. To take revenge on what we thought was a just cause. There is no justification for us, and we know this." Ludwig nodded, and closed his eyes trying to dispel the illusion of those he had killed.

"To answer your question, I do see him, the imperialistic side of me. The one that killed all those people, he scares me. His eyes are so lifeless and his kanata is stained red with blood. I would rather commit _suppuku_ then commit all those atrocities again and become that man." Ludwig nodded again, suicide over becoming a monster. Yes he too would take the coward's way out.

"Hey, Kiku, what's going on? Why did Ludwig scream?" Alfred asked walking into the bathroom rubbing his eyes and squinting at the other two. "Is everything okay?"

"Alfred, you should go back to sleep. I'll be back in a minute." Kiku said standing up and offering a hand to Ludwig so the blond could stand up as well.

"Oh, okay." Alfred said slightly hurt by his lover's words, but he turned around and made his way out of the guest room Ludwig was staying in while visiting America.

"You should get some sleep, Ludwig; we'll continue our conversation later." Kiku said, and Ludwig found himself making his way back to the bed. He lay down to sleep and tried to imagine Feliciano in his arms. But couldn't and sleep avoided him till he sat up and turned on the small lamp beside his bed pulling out a notebook he had brought with him from Germany and his favorite pen.

_Lieber Italien,_

_I'm in America visiting Alfred and Kiku. I miss you a lot. I hope you are doing well. Kiku says you are very busy and I hope that means your economy and country are faring well. I can see their faces when I sleep, all the millions that died because I went crazy, because I failed to act. Because I loved the pain that I was getting, and it scares me just how close I went to going off the deep end. But Kiku says that he too is plagued by these dreams and images. I'm not sure if that makes me feel any better._

_I wish that I could see you smile again, or have you curl up against me as we sleep. I don't' sleep well anymore because you're not beside m_

Ludwig shook his head as he reread what he had written so far, there was no way he could send this letter to Feliciano, he sounded too much like a teenage girl pinning away for her long lost love. But then wasn't that kind of how he felt about the Italian? It didn't matter; there was no way in hell he would send that letter to him.

He shut the light off and laid back down in bed leaving the unfinished letter on the nightstand for all to read his deepest of feelings. He found this time that he could fall to sleep and he did into a welcomed dreamless sleep.

"Ludwig, Alfred says it's time for breakfast." Kiku said quietly shaking the German awake. Ludwig blearily opened his cerulean blue eyes wishing for sleep to come over again, sleep that wouldn't come of course. He had to get up and face the day like he had for the past ten years that he had been alone.

"_Danke_," he said rolling out of bed not even noticing the letter missing from the bedside table or the fact that Kiku glanced nervously at the empty beside table.

Alfred placed a plate full of pancakes with maple syrup from his brother and bacon and eggs. It reminded Ludwig of a type of breakfast farmers would eat back in Germany, only instead of pancakes there would be potato chunks and it would all be mixed together. Full of energy so that he could work all day on the farm till his wife called him for dinner. "You look hungry, Ludwig." Alfred said with a smile sitting across from him at the round breakfast table with a cup of coffee in his hands. Alfred was a coffee addict, most of his citizens were too so the fact didn't surprise Ludwig much.

"I am _danke_." Ludwig said helping himself to the plate right in front of him.

"Are you feeling better?" Kiku asked sliding into the chair next to him. Ludwig nodded and sighed, he didn't really want to tell the couple that the nightmares were a daily occurrence, though seeing that man in his reflection wasn't. "If you ever need to talk to anyone about it, you can talk to me."

"I hear Antonio is also a good person to talk to about going crazy." Alfred said raising the mug of coffee to his lips and then bringing it back down without allowing any of the black drink into his mouth. "From what Artie and Lovino have told me the happy go lucky Spaniard wasn't always as happy go lucky. But I barely remember him powerful and you wouldn't have known him like that at all." Ludwig frowned at Alfred's notion that he was the older one. Antonio being blood thirsty and crazy seemed to ring a bell somewhere in the back of his head, had Gilbert mentioned it before?

Suddenly an image of a crying Lovino being pulled away from a clearly distraut Antonio by his brother and Rodriech filled Ludwig's mind. Both were shouting at each other in Spanish words of love and passion. Beside him Ludwig could see an upset Feli. And then Antonio lunged towards Gilbert who had slung Lovino over his shoulder. "Give him back!" Antonio was shouting, his sword raised with all intentions to take back Lovino. And Ludwig felt his legs move of their own accord and block Antonio's attack on his brother.

A voice almost alien to him came out of his mouth "Antonio, I'm sorry. Let him go."

"Ludwig, Ludwig, you okay?" Alfred asked looking down at him. Ludwig blinked and realized that he was no longer in his chair but lying on the white linoleum floor in Alfred's kitchen.

"_Ja_, I'm okay." Ludwig said helping himself back into his chair.

"What happened, you went quiet for a minute and then it was if you didn't even see Kiku and I here and you were talking but you were addressing Antonio telling him you were sorry but let him go. Let who go?"

"Lovino," Ludwig whispered, "I'm not sure what it was, it was like being in a memory of an alien person. Like a dream almost, but not. I'm so confused; I wish _bruder _was here so I could ask him about it." Ludwig sighed and looked back down at the breakfast table at the food he no longer wanted.

"Ivan can't keep you separated for long. One day that iron curtain is going to fall." Alfred said, Ludwig nodded; he didn't want to wait forever though.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): So you get a bit of everything in this chapter: angst, lost memories, American cooking, and Matthew's maple syrup. Yep everything. I'm going to keep this author's note brief because I wrote such lengthy ones in the last one. Just want to say Happy Memorial Day, and also who else other than Americans celebrates Memorial Day? **

**Translations:**

**Danke:**_** thank you**_

**Suppuku: Japanese suicide samaris would commit it instead of being captured by the enemy. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Dear Italy**

**Chapter Seven**

**I don't own Hetalia.**

Lovino wasn't sure when the last time he had been so nervous to see that happy go lucky Spaniard before. It must have been in the Spaniard's pirate days, he knew that much, that bastard had scared Lovino a lot and he'd only been a colony back then. Now he was a country liked the Spanish Bastard and damn it, he wasn't going to let anyone intimidate him anymore. He wasn't even scared of the French Bastard anymore, well not really. Okay maybe a little, he amened in his head.

He took a deep breath as he walked up to the front stoop of the Spaniard's house. Frowning, he remembered it being so much larger when he was a colony. What had happened to it? Maybe Alfred's idea of trying to open up talks with the Spanish nation again was a bad idea, what if Antonio was doing secret bad things to his people much like the Germans had ten years ago and was crazy like he had been when he was a conquistador? Lovino shook his head; no he couldn't be afraid of the Tomato-Bastard now. He had to be brave and strong.

He took another deep breath as he made three knocks on the door. Then he held his breath and waited for the filmilure sounds of someone moving inside the house. Lovino started to panic in his mind, what would he say, what could he say? Sure he had written letters to Antonio during World War Two telling him how the war was faring, the struggles of trying to keep up with a military, he had stopped writing after the Invasion of Sicily, he didn't want Antonio to know how much pain he had been in because of it or how weak he felt because he had surrendered to the Allies. Though looking back, that wasn't the worse descion he had ever made. And despite being defeated he and Feliciano had made out rather okay.

Then the door opened and a tired looking Antonio stood in the doorway. Lovino swallowed the spit in his throat expecting the Spaniard to shut the door on his face. Not that Lovino would have blamed the bastard, he certainly would have if Antonio had helped tear his nation apart and then ignored him for over ten years. But Antonio wasn't like that, was he?

"You're okay; I was worried after you stopped writing to me." Antonio said smiling and ushered the Italian into his house. "It's been a while, but you look the same." Lovino snorted, countries didn't age fast so of course he wouldn't look different.

"Yeah," Lovino said staring at the rug beneath him, "Sorry about that."

"_No hay problema_." Antonio said still wearing the smile on his face that Lovino wanted to wipe off his face. Couldn't he ever be serious?

"I haven't written to you in over ten years and it's no problem? Bastard. Don't you know how much I worried for you every day! I haven't seen you in twenty years, and I helped tear your country and two! You- you should hate me!" Lovino shouted half tempted to run from the house and screw Alfred's mission. Why was he even here, he should be out looking for Commies in Western Europe, not waking up old ghosts that were going to act like idiots.

"And yet here you are the first country I've seen since becoming fascist. I think it means something." Antonio said still smiling though it had dropped slightly then from what it had been when he opened the door.

"I'm here under Alfred's orders." Lovino muttered trying to avoid looking into those green eyes, he knew if he looked into them there would be no turning back and everything he had been trying to keep under the surface for the past odd something years would surface and he'd end up crying and men didn't do that!

"I didn't know you took orders from Alfred now." Antonio said sardonicly reminding Lovino of the pirate side of the Spaniard.

"It's nothing," Lovino said with a huff. He had chosen this mission anyway, Alfred was going to give it to Kiku who was ten times better at foreign relationships then Lovino, but Lovino had a special relationship with Antonio and the American knew that and so he had given the Southern Italian the option of the mission.

"Oh really, ten years out of the loop and you've become America's bitch!" Antonio shouted, Lovino blinked at him confused. Was Antonio jelous of Alfred? That was laughable, and yet Lovino couldn't bring himself to laugh at it. He was in fight or flight mode and his body was saying fight.

"And what is it to you if I am?" Lovino's mind shouted at him to stop, to calm the shaking Spaniard down before he said something that he really was going to regret, but his mouth had a mind of its own and it wasn't going to listen to the bull crap that Antonio was saying. "You don't own me; I am my own country now!"

"Get out!" Antonio said darkly opening up the door, "And tell that selfish bastard not to send anyone else to talk to me! I don't want to hear it!" Lovino crossed his arms and locked his legs to make it more difficult for Antonio to move him even though he was sure that if he wanted to he could.

"Fine! You know what Alfred doesn't need to worry about you turning Communist anyway. It's obvious you're to arogent to be anything but a dictatorship anyway!" Stupid, weak tears escaped from Lovino's eyes, rolling down his face as he yelled at the Spanish nation. And then Lovino rushed out the open door, tears falling behind him.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay,<em> fratello<em>?" Feliciano asked watching his brother make his way over to the freezer and pull out the pint of American ice cream that Lovino loved so much grabbing a spoon from the drawer and eating said ice cream from the cartin.

"_Estupido_, _bastardo español_!" Lovino said hitting the ice cream with everyword. "_Soy puta _America_ ahora_? _Bastardo_!" He sat down on the couch beside his brother with as much emphasis as possible. Why did he have to be so stubborn when it came to his feelings, why couldn't he just tell Antonio what he felt?

"_Fratello_, I don't understand Spanish." Feliciano whinned, "Don't eat all the ice cream." Lovino descided to ignore him and continued to eat the ice cream though he did stop ranting in Spanish, but that was probably more due to the fact of eating ice cream then it was to Feliciano's protest.

After finishing the pint of ice cream and Feliciano went upstairs to bed, Lovino curled up on the couch and cried himself to sleep hoping no one would ever know how weak he had been.

* * *

><p>"<em>Cosa hai fatto a mio fratello? Elgi si ̍e addormentato ieri sera a causa tua<em>!" Feli shouted banging on Antonio's door with his fist. He couldn't bear to see his brother act so depressed and he knew his brother's meeting with Antonio to being the cause of the problem. Under normal circumstances he would never have had the nerve to do such a thing, but doing the spy work for Alfred and having to do things on his own had given Feliciano a bit of a back bone now.

"Feliciano?" Antonio asked sleepily opening the door. "You sounded like Lovi there for a minute." Then he frowned. "That American better not have sent you."

"What does Alfred have to do with my brother, of whom you hurt." Feliciano said angerly which shocked the Spaniard because Feliciano was not easily angered.

"He told me yesterday the only reason he was here was because Alfred asked him to come." Antonio snapped he didn't want to get into it with Feliciano, not as early in the morning as it was.

"_Fratello_, doesn't express how he feels like everyone else. You of all people should know that." Antonio grumbled something unintellagble in response. "Yes Alfred asked him to come over here yesterday because he wants to open up relations with you again and he knew that Lovino knew you the best." For once Antonio wasn't sure what to say, Feliciano was right, Lovi didn't express his feelings the way most others did and he should have known better yesterday. Normally he was paient with the Southern half of Italy, but he had been angry about the fact that Lovino hadn't tried to contact him in over ten years.

"_Lo siento_."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to." Feliciano said sadly. He turned away from the door of the Spaniard's house and looked back to the black car he'd taken over from Rome, where and Lovino now lived though Lovino often complained about not having room to grow his tomatoes and that he wanted to go back to living in Sicily, despite the fact that Sicily was not a good place because it was hard to get in and out of due to the fact that it was on an island. Feliciano heard that Arthur had the same issues.

"Feli, wait- I- I don't know if I'll be able to see Lovino anytime soon, I'm still not allowed to leave Spain." Antonio protested and watched Feliciano's expression go from the unusual one of being serious to his normally happy go lucky smile that everyone liked to see on him.

"No worries, I brought _Fratello_ with me."

* * *

><p>Lovino moaned slightly as he begun to wake up, and his eyes blinked rapidly till he did actually wake up. The first things he noticed when he woke up was 1) there was a blanket covering him that hadn't been there last night and 2) he was not in his and his brother's apartment back in Rome. He was sure that finding the solution to the second realization would also be the solution to the first one and vice versa. And then he saw the Spanish Bastard that he never wanted to see again after yesterday.<p>

"_Che diavolo_? You better not have kidnaped me, Bastard." Lovino said and Antonio looked over at him from the window he had been previously staring out of looking deep in thought.

"You're awake."

"No shit, I'm awake! What the hell am I doing here? How did I get here?" Lovino said not getting off the couch as he spoke.

"Your brother brought you." Antonio explained in a voice that reminded Lovino of when he still lived with the Spaniard and he was telling Lovino not to do something that he had told the young Italian not do multiple times. Though usually in Lovino's memories the man was smiling, something he was not doing now.

"Feli? _Bastardo_." Lovino cursed under his breath, he hadn't been expecting Feliciano to figure out what was bothering him never the less bringing him over to Spain to face the Spanish Bastard again. How would he like it if Lovino kidnapped him and brought him over to Germany and forced him to face that German Bastard, not that Lovino would ever do that, but hypothetically.

He was caught up in his thoughts he failed to notice that Antonio had moved to sit beside him on the couch. He took Lovino's hands in his and turned him slightly so that they were now facing each other. That's when Lovino snapped out of his thoughts and he yanked his hands away from Antonio's. "What the hell, Bastard?"

"_Mi dispace_." Antonio whispered in Lovino's native Italian which made Lovino's hazel eyes whiden with schock. "_Ti amo_." There he went again knocking over the boat of what Lovino felt was normal and yet Lovino wanted to hear more Italian roll off the Spaniard's toungue. Just as he was sure that Antonio wanted to hear him speak Spanish.

"_T-Te amo_." Lovino whispered and then Antonio's lips caught Lovino's and his arms situated Lovino so that he now sat on Antonio's lap. Which Lovino didn't mind as he wrapped his legs around Antonio's waist, his fingers running through his chocolate brown hair. Antonio ran his toungue against Lovino's bottom lip asking for entrance, Lovino knew that normally Antonio would have just forced his way into anyone's mouth, but he was special, he was the only one who could stop the Spaniard's rampage against life during the fifteen and sixteen hundreds and turn Antonio back into a decent human, he had the reason Antonio had allowed his people to turn fascist anyway, to please his Lovi. He had control over the Spaniard that no other had. He was the one Antonio was in love with and no other could ever say that.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): Hello, I'm back and I'm on Summer break so the updates should become more frequent. I'll shoot for one a week, though it usually takes only a couple of hours to type. About one hour for each page depending on how much the creative juices are flowing. All you Spamano fans got your wish. Yes I had been planning to write some, and you'll see the important role Antonio will make at the end of the story. As for the mystery to the letter that Alfred and Kiku swiped in the last chapter, that will be coming up too.**

**Translations:**

**No hay problema: **_**No problem (Spanish)**_

**Estupido, bastardo español: **_**Stupid Spanish Bastard (Spanish) **_**i know this is slightly wrong FFN didn't like the little mark that went over the u**

**Soy puta America ahora? Bastardo: **_**I am America's bitch? Bastard (Spanish)**_

**Cosa hai fatto a mio fratello? Elgi si ̍e addormentato ieri sera a causa tua: **_**What did you do to my brother? He fell asleep crying because of you! (Italian)**_

**Lo siento: **_**I'm sorry (Spanish)**_

**Che diavolo: **_**What the hell? (Italian)**_

**Mi dispace: **_**I'm sorry (Italian)**_

**Ti amo: **_**I love you (Italian)**_

**Te amo: **_**I love you (Spanish)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Dear Italy**

**Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

Ludwig woke up with a foreboding feeling. Something wasn't right in Germany; his people were in an uproar about something. He hastily pushed off his covers and slipped into his slippers before padding softly downstairs. He could hear the people protesting outside of the house he was in. His boss had been right something was not right in Berlin and now Ludwig was glad he had made the dangerous journey to West Berlin. He had silently hoped to see Gilbert somewhere in the eastern part but it seemed that the rumors that Ivan kept all the countries he had control over locked up in his house were true. His brother was nowhere to be found in the eastern part of their country.

Ludwig softly smiled to himself, _their country_, he liked that. Gilbert had much more experience when it came to running a country and Ludwig had to wonder if that was why Germany had been so turbulent in its early days, because he had, had no idea how to run a country.

He opened the door and looked down the street to the section that was now East Berlin. Despite the fact that the two halves of the country were under two different rulers it had always been possible to go from one side of the city to the other without relative difficulty. Till now, Ludwig watched in horror as men built what looked to be a wall separating East Berlin from West Berlin. A wall, a wall separating him from his brother. It made Gilbert seem so far away now. Before Gilbert had always been just out of reach as Ludwig reached out to him, but now it was as if someone had created an impenetrable ravine between the two of them. This was wrong, and there was nothing Ludwig could do to prevent that wall from going up.

* * *

><p>Ludwig watched Ivan smiling at him from the other side of the wall that was near completion. Ludwig was almost certain that was why the Russian was in East Berlin, to see the wall finished. Behind the man was Gilbert, his head raised up high with the pride Ludwig knew the albino had, had since he was born. He had certainly been prideful when he was raising Ludwig despite the fact that Prussia had lost most of its former glory. Ludwig couldn't remember that though, he hadn't been around yet. But from what he had heard, his brother had been a sight to behold.<p>

Beside Gilbert was Elizaveth with almost the same prideful look Gilbert had, it seemed that their spirit could never be brought down and for some reason that gave Ludwig hope though he wasn't sure why. She looked a little worse for wear, bruises littered her arms and there was also a cut running across her cheek that looked to be finally healing. Was that from her uprising four years ago? What had Ivan done to her people so that she looked like that still now?

"_Bruder, Elizaveth, ich habe euch verfelt_." Ludwig shouted to them, he knew Ivan would have no idea what he was saying but Gilbert and Elizaveth would understand him perfectly. He wondered what Rodriech would say when he told him that he'd seen the Hungarian nation. Everyone, well at least every nation in Europe knew that despite their divorce that Elizaveth and Rodriech harbored feelings for one another.

"_Uns al auch_." Elizaveth said in flawless German that she had learned from a mix of Rodriech and Gilbert. Ivan eye's narrowed at Elizaveth as she spoke to the German nation.

"_Geb nicht die Hoffnung auf_!" Gilbert shouted as Ivan dragged him and Elizaveth from Ludwig's sight. "_Wir werden wieder zusammen sein_!" Ludwig felt tears prick his eyes as the two disappeared from sight. He could only hope Ivan wouldn't punish them too harshly for speaking to him.

"_Ich weiss, wir werden_." Ludwig said softly grabbing the iron cross he wore around his neck. He always did that when he was deeply upset. The tears were starting to fall faster and he needed to get out there before he broke down completely.

He ran all the way back to his house and when he was on the opposite side of the door from prying eyes he allowed the tears to fall freely. Tears that he had always kept locked up, he was Germany, and he was not allowed to cry. If he did that would be weakness and he was not weak! But he had to be weak now, he couldn't stop the tears from falling, the world would forgive him for one weak moment right?

* * *

><p>It was haunting, that wall in the middle of the city. It was the elephant in the room, no body spoke of it, but everybody noticed it. Ludwig just wanted to go back to West Germany, to Hamburg and Frankfurt that were booming with production and business, helping him rise through the nations back to being one of the powerful ones again. West Berlin was booming with industry too and historical pride, it was the former capitol of Germany and Prussia and when Germany united again everyone knew that it would become the capitol once again.<p>

But his boss had deemed it too dangerous to travel across East Germany right now, apparently Ivan was looking for him and he was only safe in West Berlin. Was Ivan looking for him because he had talked to Gilbert?

He sighed and ran a hand through his gelled back hair. Whatever the reason was, it was preventing him from going back home. He picked up his pen and grabbed a piece of paper that sat on his desk and did the one thing that always made him feel better.

_Lieber Italien,_

_I'm sure by now you've heard the news of what has arisen in Gilbert and I's beloved city, those damn Communist have built a wall! A wall! And I saw him, Gilbert, at the wall. He was with Ivan and Elizaveth. I think Ivan wanted to show him that there was no way for his people to escape into West Berlin anymore and to try to show Elizaveth there was no hope for them to escape. But they looked okay. _

_I'm stuck here in West Berlin though. My boss says it's not safe for me to travel across East Germany at the moment back to West Germany. I miss the people there, they're much more lively then those who live here in Berlin, much more carefree. They remind me of you I guess._

Ludwig sighed and put down the pen, the words seemed awkward as he reread them, at least the last paragraph did. Why was it getting so hard to write to Feliciano, lately? Was it because he hadn't seen the Italian in almost twenty years? And he wasn't sure what to say anymore to him? Yeah, that was probably it.

Why did he even write these letters? Feliciano never wrote back it was obvious that he no longer cared for him anymore. And it was his own fault that Feliciano had gotten so hurt in the previous war. It was his fault the last war started, it was his fault that Germany was divided, it was his fault that so many countries now had to live with Ivan, his fault that Antonio was still under fascist rule, his fault that so many people had died. His fault that this wall was now up in the middle of his city.

Why didn't he just do the world a favor and kill himself?

* * *

><p>The room was dark except for a single light on the table. A tall, broad man sat at the opposite end his face hidden in shadows, but Natalya knew who he was. He was the man she loved and had been desperately in love with since as long as she could remember. He was the man she called older brother despite having no actual blood relationship with him, much like that quiet girl that lived by the annoying boy that never got involved in war. "Italy is an annoying fly, and he must be stopped." The man said,<p>

"I agree," she said wondering why Ivan went to so much trouble to keep his face hidden from her, it wasn't as if she didn't know who he was. She had been his assassin for many years and would continue that role for as long as he so desired her to.

"We must be patient though, he is that Democracy bastard's pet and is too well protected."

"No protection he might have can stop me." Natalyia boasted fiddling with her knife that was hidden in her skirt at all times.

"_Neyt_!" Ivan said slamming his hand down on the table. "Patience Natalyia, you must be patience. I have another job for you; I want you to make sure that Germany loses his will to fight. He will become one with Mother Russia." Natalyia could almost see the childish smile on his face as he gave off the childish giggle.

"Yes sir." She said before standing up and leaving the dark room.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): And I'm back from my wonderful adventure in Washington D.C. Update should be weekly now maybe twice a week depending on how productive I feel. Okay also the diffrent deviding lines, the first section takes place at the begaining of the building of the Berlin Wall and second section is at the end. The third is a few week later and the forth takes place in Russia about the same time as the third section. Just clearing that up.**

**Translations:**

**Bruder, Elizaveth, ich habe euch verfelt: **_**Brother, Elizaveth, I have missed you (German)**_

**Uns al auch: **_**Us also (German)**_

**Geb nicht die Hoffnung auf: **_**Don't give up on hope (German)**_

**Wir werden wieder zusammen sein: **_**We will be together again (German)**_

**Ich weiss, wir warden: **_**I know we will (German)**_

**Neyt!: **_**No! (Russian)**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Dear Italy**

**Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_** There he was standing in front of him dressed in all black like he always was dressed in. Except this time there was an unfamiliar sword at his hip. His blue eyes were sad and Feliciano knew he didn't want to go away to war. He wanted to stay with him at Rodriech's house surrounded by the brook and the meadows and Rodriech's music and nativity. Feli shook his head at how naive he had been back then; he had honestly believed that Holy Rome was going to survive the wars he threw himself into. **_

_** But Feli couldn't help but feel the way he had back then, so young, so innocent, so much in love with Holy Rome, in his heart he wished Holy Rome would come back so he could go back to those days. "I-I'm sorry for everything." Holy Rome said, beside him the army was marching out, underneath the gate to where ever the battle field was to be. "This is goodbye, so don't worry." Had Holy Rome known even back then a hundred and fifty years before his death that he was going to die? No, Feliciano told himself, no, but this would have been the first major war he had thrown himself into. He looked so sad as he spoke and he didn't meet Feli's eyes.**_

_** "Meaning?" Feli felt the words fall out of his mouth before he could stop them, just as he had so many years before.**_

_** "Just what I said." Holy Rome replied, he never got angry at Feli, no matter how nieve Feli was and stupid he seemed.**_

_** "Holy Rome, let's get going." A solider said Feliciano really could make out his face very well; everything was a blur other than Holy Rome. Sure he could see the green grass below them and the gray wall behind him and the blue sky above them but not in clear detail like he could the blond before him. The blond boy who reminded him of someone else, someone he couldn't quite put his finger on. Those blue eyes seemed so familiar though.**_

_** "Sure." Holy Rome said agreeing with his men. "Later. Stay healthy." Feliciano knew there was more to the dream, the memory but….**_

He woke up. His head was leaning against the glass pane of the window he sat beside in the train that rolled across the Austrian country side. It hadn't changed much since he was a child. He would be in Italy soon, in familiar territory after being out of for so long. Alfred hadn't been kidding when he told him that the ten year mission to Poland would be a strenuous one. It had been full of danger and excitement. He was grateful that Lovino had picked up his half of the work just as he had twenty years before when Feliciano had fallen into his depression.

The house was dark when he arrived home. There was no note, not that Feliciano had been expecting one. He had been gone for ten years and he hadn't been allowed to contact his brother due to the secrecy of the mission. Not even to call him and tell him that he was finally coming home.

There was an envelope taped to the fridge with Feliciano's name on it written in the familiar shaky hand writing of Kiku Honda who was still after sixty years trying to get use to writing Roman letters and not just kanjis of his own people. When had Kiku tried to contact him? Hadn't he known Feliciano was on a mission for Alfred? He tore the envelope open anyway and almost dropped it as he looked at the first line. The neat handwriting written in the letter didn't belong to the shy Japanese nation. No, it belonged to the stoic German nation Feliciano loved. He'd recognize the handwriting anywhere.

_Lieber Italien,_

_ I'm in America visiting Alfred and Kiku. I miss you a lot. I hope you are doing well. Kiku says you are very busy and I hope that means your economy and country are faring well. I can see their faces when I sleep, all the millions that died because I went crazy, because I failed to act. Because I loved the pain that I was getting, and it scares me just how close I went to going off the deep end. But Kiku says that he too is plagued by these dreams and images. I'm not sure if that makes me feel any better._

_ I wish that I could see you smile again, or have you curl up against me as we sleep. I don't' sleep well anymore because you're not beside m_

When had Ludwig written this? How long did it sit, taped onto the fridge? Did Lovino even know that the letter was originally from Ludwig, and why did Kiku send it and not Ludwig? Why was it unfinished? The questions raced through Feliciano's mind as quickly as his heart was beating while reading this. Ludwig missed him, missed his smile, missed sleeping together; everything Feliciano had been missing as well since 1943 when he betrayed Ludwig.

Feliciano sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he'd picked up from Ludwig. He folded the letter back up and placed in the breast pocket of the black shirt he was wearing. Then he found himself meandering through the house towards the garage where he and Lovino kept all their cars. The two had plenty of cars dating back to the beginning of car manufacturing in their country. He thought about writing his brother a note about being back, but at the moment getting to Venice seemed like a better idea.

Much like Lovino owned a villa in Sicily, Feliciano owned a villa near Venice and he went there when he wanted to remember the past, or go somewhere quiet and think. Rome was much too loud to think at, deeply think at and he had too many responsibilities in Rome that would press on him unlike at Venice.

It hadn't changed much, the gardener must still be around since the grass was cut and daisies grew in the beds beside the door. There was at least an inch of dust on everything and cobwebs. It reminded Feliciano of the haunted houses Alfred liked to create every Halloween for his Halloween parties. Or at least he used to that ten years ago. The only countries he had contact with for the past ten years was Felix and occasionally Toris when he was sneaking messages back and forth between the two lovers. He had seen Gilbert once when returning to Poland to give Felix a message and he was sure that the German had seen him as well. He felt out of the loop and disconnected from his fellow Western countries.

Up in his former bedroom hung an old picture, probably taken right after unification of him and Lovino standing side by side holding the Italian flag in their hands, pride in their eyes of finally being their own country and together again. And beside that a painting, done probably in the mid-sixteen hundreds of the villa back then. Massive gardens that were in ruins now sprawled across the front lawn. The villa itself had been painted a beautiful cream color.

He didn't linger long in his bedroom though. His feet carried him out of the lavishly furnished room, down the hallway and up stairs towards the attic. The attic, a place Feliciano hadn't dared to visit in almost a hundred and fifty years when Gilbert had asked to have some of his little brother's things. The attic was Felciano's shrine to his dead love.

_ "Feli, it's Holy Rome," Elizavth said walking into Feliciano's room at Rodriech's house; Feliciano was staring out the window waiting for the war to be over so that his love could come back. At hearing Elizaveth's four words he turned his head to see her tear stained face. Normally she would be out on the battlefield with Rodriech, but the Austrian had decided he didn't want the Hungarian to be there if anything should happen to him this time. The fight the two had, had about it had scared Feliciano because Elizaveth started to throw things at the musician._

_ "Wh-what happened?" Feliciano stammered silently praying that Holy Rome was okay, that it was just an injury and Elizaveth was just over reacting. But the Hungarian held her arms out and Feliciano found himself in her embrace._

_ "Holy Rome isn't coming back, Feli."_

_ "No!" Feliciano shrieked and tried to worm his way out of Elizaveth's grasp, but she wouldn't let him leave her embrace no matter how much he screamed and kicked and hit. She just kept rubbing his back and stroking his hair as he fought against her. "No! Not Holy Rome!"_

_ "I'm sorry," she whispered soothingly, "I'm so sorry." And she kept repeating that till he calmed down and sobbed into her arms till he fell asleep. _

He picked up the black trifold hat that Holy Rome had always worn and put it back up on the drawer from his bedroom in Rodreich's house. It had been a while since he had thought about that particular memory. Not since Ludwig had entered his life at least.

There had been two hats, but Gilbert had taken some of Holy Rome's things to remember him by. They were stored in the attic of Ludwig and Gilbert's house though Feliciano highly doubted Ludwig knew the stuff was there. According to the blond nation Gilbert had only mentioned the former nation once when he was drunk.

How sad it was that Ludwig had never been able to meet the boy, Feliciano was almost positive the two would have been best friends. They were very much alike, stoic, quiet, handsome, kind, they were both very kind. And they had both accepted him and taken him under their wing despite the fact that he could be a nuisance.

"Hello Holy Rome," he said to no one in particular, "It's been a while. There's another man I love now, and though we don't see each other anymore. I miss him and I miss you." Feliciano was quiet for a few moments before speaking again. "I betrayed him Holy Rome, I betrayed him in the worst ways. I told him I loved him and then I tore out his heart and I stomped on it and gave it back to him and went over to the opposing sides. I'm a terrible person." Feliciano pulled out the letter from his pocket. "He wrote to me, I'm not sure how long ago. But I want you to watch over the letter okay, Holy Rome?" Then Feliciano placed the letter beside the hat.

He started to walk out the door and was halfway through the doorway before he stopped and turned back around to face the room. "I love you Holy Rome, and I'll always love you. But I've got to move on, and I think you'd want me to do that. I promise I'll be back though." And then Feliciano gave out a small laugh and a smile on his face for the first time in a while, a normal genuine smile that he was so famous for.

"You're back." Lovino commented as Feliciano stepped through the doorway from the garage. "When did you get back from your mission?"

"Earlier, there was something I had to do up north though so I left soon after I arrived." Feliciano said walking past his brother as he made a bee line for the fridge wanting something to eat.

"How as Venice?" Lovino asked guessing where his brother went.

"Didn't actually go into the city." Feliciano said with a shrug.

"I see you found Kiku's letter." Lovino said pointing to the remains of the envelope that were still left on the kitchen table. He sounded a little nervous as he said it, had he read it before Feliciano gotten home? It hadn't looked disturbed.

"It was actually from Ludwig." Lovino muttered something undecipherable under his breath in Spanish. Feliciano didn't even notice Lovino crumple up a letter in his fist addressed from the previously mentioned German nation.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): Okay so I was in a Holy Rome/Chibitalia mood when I wrote this and I think they're a very sweet couple. Not a lot of dialogue I know and I had to rewrite Feliciano's memory scene before I got it right. I was inspired by the dojinshi Hajimari no Onshoku which I don't own.**

**Translations:**

**There are none, yay less work for me!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Dear Italy**

**Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

Life seemed meaningless to Ludwig, what could life possibly mean if it seemed to be completely devoid of love? Gilbert was gone, possibly for good, thanks to the Soviet Union and Ivan and Natalia, the evil woman whom Ludwig was quite sure had been sniffing around the city of Hamburg where he was no residing as opposed to the country estate he had lived at all his life, well as long as he could remember. Ludwig often did dream of a green hill and his mind seemed to tell him Austria, but Ludwig couldn't remember ever living in Austria. It had always been him and Gilbert until Feliciano entered the picture at the end of World War One. Feliciano was his first friend, the first person non related to him who had complete and utter trust in him, misguided trust it seemed though. Then Kiku came along and after another wear war Alfred had become his friend and slowly the other countries of Western Europe began to warm up to him. But now that all seemed pointless because they all seemed to have abandoned him to his loneliness and depression. Gilbert was stuck on the opposite side of the Iron Curtain, Ludwig hadn't spoken to Feliciano in over thirty years, Kiku was dealing with his own issues, Alfred had been focused on the war he was waging in Vietnam and defeating Communism and none of the other Western European countries seemed to have noticed his unusual quietness at the meetings.

He blinked, pushing away his thoughts and looked to his boss. "I think you should take some time off, Ludwig. You work nonstop and its not healthy, I don't care if you're not technically human, you need to get away from the office. If you try to come back tomorrow I will make sure security keeps you out of the office." His boss said, Ludwig sighed in response; he dared not argue with the man, it was true that he hadn't taken a day off since the wall went up, and he probably could use a vacation. But where would he go? What could he do? It's not like he often hung out with the other nations.

Ludwig thought back to the mansion he had abandoned to live in Bonn, the capitol of West Germany. It was in West Germany, near _Mu__̈__nchen_, he could clean it or something. It had been a while since he had been there and Ludwig was positive that it could use some cleaning. Plus Berlizt would probably like to be able to run around the lawn again.

"_Ja,_ I'll take the day off." Ludwig agreed,

"_Gut_." His boss replied shuffling papers on his desk.

Ludwig sighed as he climbed out of the driver's seat of the blue car he drove, he wasn't sure what the model was anymore or even the brand, frankly he didn't really care. Feliciano had always cared more about the cars he drove then Ludwig ever had. He walked around to the back seat door to allow the Doberman to hop out of the car as well, her tail wagging as she was able to run around the familiar yard of their childhood. "Stay in the yard, Berlizt." Ludwig ordered, walking down the familiar dirt path to the wooden garage that had once housed carriages and old cars that both he and Gilbert had owned.

Everything was where Ludwig had left it. He could even see the tail of the Messerschmidt Bf 110 that he had flown during World War Two and the Berlin Airlift. Ludwig had built his own housing area for it after the Berlin Airlift so he wouldn't have to pay to keep it somewhere while he lived in Bonn.

He walked towards it, his fingers trailing on the side of the silver painted plane, leaving two small trails of dust freeness on the plane. The Prussian flag was still painted on it, slightly faded with time, but still discernable. Alfred had painted it because he hadn't had a flag back then, but he did now. It was striped with three different colors black, red and gold and Ludwig couldn't have been prouder to have his own flag.

Ludwig turned around and begun to walk back towards the entrance to the garage when he stopped, there was string he had never noticed hanging before, hanging from the ceiling right in front of him. Frowning slightly he pulled on the string and backed up as a wooden ladder unfolded from the ceiling. Another room on top of the garage, strange. He stepped onto the first step of the ladder, carefully judging to see if it would still hold him, or if it had rotted from time and termites. But it seemed to be sturdy enough to hold him, so he continued up the ladder.

He'd half expected to find Gilbert's diaries up here, but what was really in the room shocked Ludwig to the core, it was a room filled with crates and chests, on a stand in a corner of a room was child's clothing. All black, reminding Ludwig of what a priest would of worn three centuries prior. A painting covered in cloth leaned against the wall beside it. Ludwig felt his legs moving of their own accord towards the covered painting, pulling off the canvas cloth to reveal a girl dressed in a green dress with a white apron. A kerchief covering her hair, but a curl that was reminiscent of Feliciano's own curl stuck out from under it. She was smiling and held a daisy in her hand. And she seemed so familiar to Ludwig as if he had seen her in a dream or a dream in a dream as crazy as it sounded. His fingers brushed the canvas it was painted on unconsciously. Who was she? A nation? Only nations had strange hair like the curl. Maybe the chests held answers to his questions.

Walking over to the nearest chest, Ludwig opened it to find paper after paper. Closer inspection revealed that they were all letter, all written from the mid sixteen hundreds to the early eighteen hundreds.

_Liebe Italia,_

_I can't wait to see you again. The war campaign is going well and they predict that it'll be overs soon and I'll be coming home. I promise._

_You've been in my thoughts the whole time I've been away. Your cute blush, the curl that seems to defy gravity._

_I hear the horn of battle, I must go._

_Holy Rome_

This was the remains of the belongings of the Holy Roman Empire, a nation that had come before Ludwig and had resided mostly on the land Ludwig now was the representation of. He wasn't a nation often spoken of now, though Feliciano had told him that Holy Rome had been his first love. But why was all of this stuff at Gilbert's house and not at Rodriech's or Feliciano's? What connection would his older brother have to the fallen nation?

His eyes drifted over to the painting of the girl, he felt as if he should know her, as if he had a deep connection to her. Wouldn't Italy have mentioned a girl to him when h spoke of Holy Rome? There were many similarities between the girl and Feliciano, was that him? Why was he dressed as a girl, the Italian had never mentioned it to him. Ludwig always had felt young next to the Italian; he had only been around since the early eighteen hundreds but Feliciano had been around for nearly a thousand more years. Like Francis or Arthur or Rodreich or Elizaveth or practically every other European nation but him. But now suddenly Ludwig felt a lot younger, and that he had missed a lot too.

He found himself back in his car, Berlizt still playing in the yard, he knew she wouldn't go anywhere, he had trained her too well for her to run off, driving towards France. Hadn't Feliciano said that Francis had been the one to kill the Holy Roman Empire?

"Ludwig, how are you?" Francis said opening in Paris apartment door, he had a smile on his face like normal and he beckoned in the German. Ludwig and Francis rarely saw eye to eye in the past, but now since the European Union was created, they had begun to act more friendly with one another, as had many of the European countries that had once disagreed with each other, except for perhaps Arthur and Francis, but that had thousands of years of hatred behind it.

"I've been better." Ludwig replied stiffly as he walked into the apartment. Francis ushered him to his blue sofa and Ludwig sat down without really thinking.

"Do you want some wine or champagne?" Francis asked, Ludwig shook his head; he wanted to have a clear one as he spoke to Francis.

"I have some questions," he said as Francis poured himself a glass of wine, "about the Holy Roman Empire." Ludwig didn't miss Francis stiffening up as he mentioned the former nation, or that he missed the wine glass and the wine was very cliché like falling onto the counter. Francis realized what he had done quick enough to stop the flow of wine from the bottle so that only a little bit was spilt.

"I'd imagine your brother would have spoken to you of him." Francis replied turning around but not grabbing the wine glass.

"No, he's never mentioned the Holy Roman Empire sober to me. But I found a room above the garage full of his stuff. Why would Gilbert have the Holy Roman Empire's things if he lived with Rodriech and Feliciano? Why wouldn't they have his stuff?"

"I imagine Feliciano does have some of the Holy Roman Empire's things. You do know they were lovers right?" Francis didn't move from his spot standing in front of the wine cabinet. Ludwig nodded.

"He's told me about him. And I found a picture of Feliciano, at least I think its Feliciano, she's got his curl." Francis chuckled to himself.

"Yes, he did dress up as a girl when they were younger. Elizveth found it funny. It's how the Holy Roman Empire originally fell in love with him. The truth did come out and Holy Rome said he didn't care whether Italy was a boy or a girl he'd love him with all his heart. And he did, till he-" Francis cut himself off, he looked uncomfortable talking. "Maybe Arthur is the better person to talk to, he was there when everything happened and Rodriech. Yes, go to Rodreich and ask him about the Holy Roman Empire."

"No, you were the one who killed him; I want to hear it from you."

"I was not the same back then as am now. I was ruthless, Napoleon changed who I was. I had to defeat the Holy Roman Empire to take over Europe, and that is what I did. But he resisted too much, in my mind there was only one way to stop him. But I even failed at that."

"Are you telling me you didn't kill the Holy Roman Empire?" Ludwig asked in disbelief,

"Yes, the Holy Roman Empire is not dead. He still lives." Ludwig felt himself choking, if Feliciano knew his first love wasn't dead then would he still love him, or would he cast him aside for his first love?

"Then where is he?"

"You have to discover that for yourself."

Suddenly Ludwig found himself no longer in Francis's apartment but in a medieval church with people dressed in medival clothing all around him. Up on a podium above him was a man dressed in white and red robes of the papacy. Behind him stood a very young Feliciano and Lovino dressed in the same manner. He could see Arthur and Francis sitting on opposite sides of the room surrounded by their kings and lords. Arthur didn't look that much older than Feliciano and Lovino, Francis did, but still probably not even a teenager yet.

"…On this account I, or rather the Lord, beseech you as Christ's heralds to publish this everywhere and to persuade all people of whatever rank, foot-soldiers and knights, poor and rich, to carry aid promptly to those Christians and to destroy that vile race from the lands of our friends." The man on the podium shouted to the crowds.

And the crowds shouted back "_Dues vult! Dues vult!_" And Ludwig was almost positive he knew what he was seeing.

"Ludwig, Ludwig." Francis said standing over Ludwig who was now sprawled out on the carpet of the Frenchman's living room. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Ludwig said excepting Francis' hand and sat up, "I could see a room, you were there, but you were younger twelve maybe, and Feliciano was there and Arthur and Lovino, and the pope. I believe he was the pope. And the people shouted _Dues vult_! _Dues vult_!" Francis looked a little shocked as Ludwig repeated the French words.

"Yes, the First Crusade."

"That was almost a thousand years ago." Francis nodded, "How was I seeing that?"

"I remember the Holy Roman Empire was in attendance there." Ludwig frowned, what was Francis implying, that he was the Holy Roman Empire, he had no memories of ever being that person, only the glimpses of what seem like dreams. Like the one he had just had.

"Are you implying…." Ludwig trailed off,

"Yes Ludwig, you are Germany and the Holy Roman Empire. They are one and the same." Francis said with a nod.

"Why doesn't Feliciano know that Holy Rome- I- that I am Holy Rome? He thinks that he- me- urg! He thinks the Holy Roman Empire is dead. Who else knows, does Gilbert know?" Ludwig held his head in his arms as he tried to take in the news. Why hadn't anyone told him?

"Of course Gilbert knows, there are now four people who know the truth about your connection to Holy Rome. The rest of the world believes that he is dead."

"Why? Why doesn't anyone know, Feliciano has been thinking for years that he is dead, he felt like he was betraying him when he realized he was in love with me."

"Because for you to survive, you had to lose your memories and not know of who you were until you remembered yourself." Francis said, "I don't know the details, Arthur's the one who performed the magic not me." Ludwig suddenly felt intensely guilty, he often had tried to destroy Arthur in the last war, and Arthur was the reason he was still alive.

"But I don't really remember, I've only had two memories of Holy Rome, I don't even feel like I'm him." Ludwig protested,

_Lieber Italien,_

_Just once everything seemed to be reverting to some normalcy my world is torn down and a revelation smacks me head first. I have been enveloped in a feeling of _Einsamkeit_ for a while now. I miss you so much. But you haven't even written back._

_Ludwig_

Ludwig sighed and walked down to the mailbox to place in his letter to Italy in it. He frowned as he opened the metal box, there was a letter inside of it. The envelope was yellowish in color now from however long it had sat in the metal box. Ludwig pulled it out, looking it over for a return address. He almost dropped it as he read one word on it Italy. It was a letter from Italy.

**Author's Note (The part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): Yeah, I did a time skip about twenty years. Shame on me. But seriously people, not much happened in the seventies that I felt would have affected Ludwig or Feliciano that much. Hmm…. Maybe I should have written about Star Wars coming into theatres. Alfred dragging everybody to go see it. Haha, maybe a bonus chapter. **

**Um so I don't get a lot of reviews about it, yes the speech Ludwig sees and hears really is part of the speech Pope Urban the Second gives to rally the Catholics to save the Holy Land taken straight from Wikipedia. (Yeah cause I have that speech memorized). Why does Ludwig see a random scene from the first Crusade, I have been reading a book about the Crusades, that's why. Also there would have been no way Ludwig could have seen it without being the Holy Roman Empire.**

**Oh and yes Lovino did send Feliciano's letter from chapter five, only Ludwig never got it because it was sitting in his mailbox at the mansion and he was in Bonn (the capitol of West Germany) so he never got it. Cause he's slack about mail. And this is a really long Author's note. Haha.**

**Translations:**

**Dues vult: **_**God wills it (French)**_

**Einsamkeit: _lonliness (German)_**


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